Yesterday at the dentist
the fellow was saying how bright and sunny Saturday had been, how gloomy yesterday was by comparison. I said I didn't pay much attention to that. Everyday you wake up is a bright day. The day you don't wake up, now that's gloomy. He couldn't argue with my logic.
Nonetheless, the morning is darker than some. A little moisture last evening, not much. A grey overcast sky. There has been enough light this morning to get the birds singing. You cannot argue with their logic, either.
Warmth in the air. Doves and robins in the yard. A beer can in the street. Ah, Fairwater.
The greenness of everything. The flag at the cemetery is blowing west to east - finally, a wind we know and can trust.
A blue jay along the roadway. Corn is coming up everywhere, corn and weeds. And a fellow's garden.
Either one chases the ghosts of this world, or one is awfully dull.
At Five Corners the old farmer is working his flower beds. We all have obsessions, some more public than others.
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